maybe ill carry this loneliness to the next life,
an intrepid ghost: a hovering nomadic,
tasked to obtain series of higher virtues alone irregardless of each of their truely unobtainable natures.
for when I reach into that ubiquitous
nihility between the realm of our reality, I only feel the tease of God's fingers goading for my spirit-the light - to reach for greater as I grow lesser in the eyes of others; no more loving guise.
My heart does replete of its ironic painstaking undertaking. Beating a song only I would sing. Doomed listening for the slow drum that matches my own.